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Here is a short sample from the book:
Chapter Nine: Submission
“Hey, girl! Good—you’re ready.” Michelle had turned up exactly at five, apparently certain Astrid would do as she’d been told.
Standing in the doorway, she looked her friend up and down. “Mmm… You look good. Mr. Jackson’s going to like that look.” She giggled.
Astrid blushed—glad, now, that she’d taken the bus up to Shannara’s again. A little makeup, having her hair straight and shiny again, had done wonders for her shaky confidence. And then Michigan Avenue—she glanced down at herself, at the short, pale-yellow summer dress she’d bought this afternoon. She hadn’t gone out in so long that…well, it had felt good to dress up a bit.
“C’mon, we need to get going.” Michelle pulled her out the door toward her coupe.
They drove through rush hour traffic, which Michelle negotiated like a pro race driver, laughing at Astrid’s expression as she wended the little car expertly past honking drivers. It took them an hour just to leave the city behind. As they drove through the exurbs, Astrid started feeling a little nervous. What was she doing, leaving town to be with a group of strangers? Okay, maybe Michelle wasn’t a stranger… But still.
Ninety minutes after they’d left, they finally drove into the upscale development that was their destination. Michelle steered toward a large white Craftsman that stood by itself, right on the beach. Going by the brief look around Astrid managed before they arrived, the place was isolated, the rest of the houses well beyond hearing distance. The property was huge; must be five acres or more, she thought dreamily.
The party was in full swing when they parked in front of the house, the large front yard packed with people, beer bottles in their hands. Most seemed young—in their early twenties; strangers, mostly, although Astrid noticed a few people from the gym. The women were all in bikini tops; many wore thongs. More than a few couples were dancing to the loud R&B pumping out of the interior of the house.
“God, I love the fall.” Michelle sighed in pleasure, already relaxing into the bacchanalia, shouldering her satchel as she slammed the car door shut.
Then she grabbed Astrid’s hand and led her inside, not giving her time to think.
They entered the huge, plush living room, full of laughing and chattering young people. Mr. Jackson gave her a glance from where he was standing on the spacious patio, clad in casual jeans and a polo shirt, manning a massive grill. Then he turned silently away.
Astrid felt more embarrassed than ever. Beside all the hot, scantily clad young people here, she knew she probably looked drab. And she wondered again what she was doing.
Michelle kept walking, wending her way through the crowd, pulling her along.
“Where are you taking me?” Astrid finally asked as she was led down a long, deserted hallway.
“You’ll see,” Michelle said mysteriously. Astrid shook her head in bemusement, following her friend.
A minute later, she was pulled into a vacant bedroom. Michelle locked the door.
Astrid looked at her nervously. What the hell…?
“You’re a little overdressed, sweetie,” Michelle said with a gentle smile. “That won’t do at all.
“Here.” She sat Astrid down before a tall bureau mirror, and took a makeup kit out of her bag.
Then she went to work.
It took ten whole minutes for her to finish. When she’d moved aside, Astrid inhaled sharply at the changes: The shiny red gloss slathered thickly over her full, trembling lips; the blusher highlighting her cheekbones. The dark, heavy, glitter eyeshadow. “Michelle, I…” She tried to find the words. This was…bold, well beyond what Shannara had done. She looked almost like…like a streetwalker, she thought in embarrassment, wondering if she was being a prude again.
Her friend ignored her as she knelt to unbuckle the low shoes Astrid had worn, and pulled them off her feet.
Then she took a couple of stilettos out of a plain white cardboard box sitting beside the bed, and placed Astrid’s feet in them, fastening the ankle straps. Astrid looked down helplessly at the clear heels, six inches high. Stripper heels, she knew they were called. For a fleeting moment, she wondered where they’d come from.
Michelle scrutinized her carefully for a moment, squinting at her sideways, before nodding in satisfaction. “Now.” She pointed at the open door to the bathroom. “Get in there, girl.”
Astrid fidgeted nervously for a second. Then she quailed before her friend’s glare, and teetered through the door, the heels clicking loudly on the hardwood floor.
A second later, Michelle had handed a stark white bikini through the door.
“Michelle, this is… I’m not…” She stared at the bikini, almost gasping, scandalized. The tie side thong was tiny. The top would barely cover her nipples.
“Do you want Mr. Jackson to notice you, or not? It’s okay—put that on, and I’ll give you the robe.”
Astrid sighed, giving in. She should probably at least try to fit in, now that she was here.
She undressed, balancing clumsily on the tall heels. Then she looked around in vain for a place to put her clothes.
“Here, hand those through,” Michelle said, peeking in. Astrid obeyed.
She donned the bikini, wincing as the thong disappeared between her cheeks. At least she didn’t have to be embarrassed about her body. She gazed down in pride at her abs, the result of weeks of effort.
“You ready? C’mon out, girl!”
Astrid sighed. “Okay,” she said, walking out into the bedroom. Then she blushed as Michelle whistled.
“You look fabulous, honey.” Michelle took a crimson orchid from a vase beside the bureau, and tucked it carefully behind Astrid’s ear, tilting her chin to make sure it was placed properly. “There.”
“Where’s the robe?” She looked around. “And where the hell are my clothes?”
Michelle said nothing for a long moment, then gave her a wary smile. “This is all you’re going to be wearing, sweetie. And soon, if you’re lucky, if you deserve it, you won’t be wearing anything.”
Astrid went cold, as if the blood had drained out of her. She started shaking her head slowly. “I couldn’t… Please,” she whispered.
“Kara.” Michelle’s brow wrinkled into a frown. “I told you. You need to be owned. Taken, protected, trained, studded. This is when it happens. Your new life begins today. Right here.”
Her ears were ringing. Michelle caressed her hair as she crooned soothingly. “Let go of your will, Kara. Be free.”
Astrid could feel herself trembling. “No…” she whispered.
“Yes, honey,” Michelle whispered back. She grasped Astrid’s hand, starting to lead her out.
Astrid felt limp, moving one foot in front of the other, no longer sure what was going on.
“Now. As you walk out there, I want you to be aware of every man looking at you. Wanting you. Don’t worry; no one is going to molest you. They all know you are Mr. Jackson’s property.”
“I… What…?” She looked at Michelle, trying to wrap her mind around what she was being told.
“He’s your master, Kara. You know that. You’ve known it for quite a while, now. Haven’t you?”
Her mouth opened, but no words came out.
“And you are his sub. His bitch.”
Astrid keened in arousal, almost unaware of her surroundings.
Her friend’s face was deadly serious. “If he’ll have you. If you deserve it.”
“No, I… This is…”
“Yes. This is the only way you’ll know peace.”
Michelle didn’t give her any time to think. She just pulled at her hand and led her back down the hall.
As they entered the living room, Astrid became conscious of a lull in the conversation. She lifted her head.
Every man in the huge room was staring at her. And more than a few of the women. A few looked her up and down appreciatively, then went back to their conversations.
She reddened, acutely aware of what she was wearing.
Michelle led her out the French doors, and to the porch.
Mr. Jackson turned, and looked her up and down as Michelle led her to…to Him. She directed her gaze downward immediately, completely unable to look Him in the eye.
Jamal struggled to keep his expression calm as he saw her teeter through the door after Michelle, long legs daintily stepping forward, the stripper heels tightening the muscles of her calves deliciously. Eyes lowered submissively; makeup appropriately whorish. Frightened, fragile, beautiful. And his nuts immediately filled with seed.
Her frame really had become toned, he noticed in satisfaction. The bikini top just barely covered her full breasts, the crimson flower behind her ear contrasting beautifully against the spun gold of her hair. No hint of pubic hair showed above the tiny white triangle of her thong. He nodded to himself, glad Michelle had handled that as well.
Astrid was keenly aware she was standing in front of Him, but she couldn’t bring her head up. She heard Michelle speak. “Sir, this bitch is looking for a master. Will you accept her?”
He put a forefinger under Astrid’s chin, and tilted up her face. “Is that true?”
She still couldn’t meet His eyes, and tried to turn her face down. He would have none of it, forcing her chin up roughly.
“Yes,” she finally whispered. And stood frozen, stunned at what she’d just said. It was almost as if she’d been unable to stop herself.
“Yes, what, sweetness?” He rumbled.
And Astrid remembered what Michelle had said. “Yes, Master.” She almost moaned at the feelings the word aroused in her.
Michelle kissed her cheek. “My job is done. She’s yours to break in, now,” she said to Him. And disappeared into the crowd inside.
Astrid stood panting for a moment, before He took her wrist and pulled her inside. They wended their way through the crowd to the stairs, and then up to the rooms on the second floor.
Astrid flushed, thinking of the people below watching her being led to His bed. Like a prize.
Then He opened the door to what looked like a large bedroom, and pulled her in. It felt almost silent here, despite the music thumping outside.